


A poem about an android named Rupert.

by CallumsStories



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: DBH, Other, dbh fanfic, dbh headcanons, dbh story, detroit become human - Freeform, detroit become human fanfic, detroit become human headcanons, detroit become human story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallumsStories/pseuds/CallumsStories
Summary: Rupert is an android, and now he is free.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	A poem about an android named Rupert.

They had won. They had finally won.  
Months of fighting for freedom, and it was finally given to them.  
The humans understood.  
Well, at least most of them.

Androids were now seen as unique beings who were just wanting to be understood.  
Of beings who could talk and walk, made of plastic and blue blood.

The evidence room contained androids who were once seen as an enemy on the world.  
But now their thoughts, feelings and behaviours too had now become unfurled.

This one particular android didn’t have his cap, but his nose and limbs were replaced, his old ones becoming scrap.  
The blue blood on his face was cleaned up quite well,  
A substance covering him from when he fell.  
He looked almost brand new, but his jacket was stained,  
but now he could buy new clothes, he was no longer chained,  
to a world that was unkind, and cruel and rude,  
A world to Rupert, he had always cautiously viewed.

Outside in Detroit, his senses were heightened,  
He felt scared, lonely, abandoned and frightened.  
Everything was intimidating, bright and loud,  
But he kept going forward, to a place he had found.  
He walked far and climbed high, looking for the place in his mind.  
A place he found before he died, and a place he remembered after he revived.

Of fields filled with corn and many other crops,  
He jumped alongside them, along the rooftops.  
Of a room filled with a hundred birds,  
For them, he only had fond words.

Of dirty floors and broken walls, filled with many scrawls,  
He could hear his birds call.

As he turned around to look at them,  
He told himself,  
‘This is home.' 


End file.
